The Carpenter
by Frank Palladin
Summary: Jeanie is about to suffer the wrath of the Blue Djin, but has an unlikely defender.


**The Carpenter**

Jeanie cringed as she read the note.

"Soon, Jeanie, soon, and no man can help you, but your precious master will die first," it said. She could almost hear the oily sickly-sweet voice in her ears. The Blue Djin was loose again.

She knew that, though the author of the note was a master of deception, in this case, it was the truth. She hoped against hope that when he came for her, her Master would not be at home. She knew she would be as helpless to protect him as she would be to protect herself.

She began to walk across the room and stumbled on the carpet, crashing into a coffee table.

"Owwww," she said, rubbing her shin where it had struck the edge of the table. She surveyed the damage briefly. The bruise would heal, but the table would not, she realized looking at the shattered pieces scattered on the floor. Her Master would be angry, as the table was a family heirloom.

She was saddened that Anthony would remember that she had broken it before she left. There was little to be done, however, her powers were too far gone now to fix so much as a broken toothpick, much less the damage before her.

She looked again at the table with the veneered cross carefully inlaid into the top. Staring for a time, she stood up and went to the bookshelf. Selecting a heavy black volume, she opened the book, settled herself on the floor and began to read. She sat for an hour thus, reading.

After she was done, she did something she had never done before. She began to pray.

"God," she began, a bit self-consciously, "I don't know if you listen to genies' prayers or not. I really need your help, though. My enemy is powerful, and because of my sickness, I am weak. I cannot help myself, and I cannot help my Master. It would not be so bad, if it were only me, but my Master did nothing to deserve death at the hands of my enemy. Please, God, help me!"

Nothing happened. Jeanie, accustomed to magic working immediately, was unused to the need for patience. Eventually she stood up and placed the book back on the shelf.

"I guess God doesn't hear the prayers of genies," she said with a sigh.

At that moment a knock sounded at the door. Steeling herself against the possibility that the enemy had arrived, she went to the door and opened it. Instead of her enemy, though, a young man in his early thirties stood with an old-fashioned wooden tool box slung over his left shoulder.

"Good afternoon," he said, beginning a seemingly rehearsed speech. "I am looking for work. I am a carpenter, but I can fix pretty much anything. My rates are reasonable, I ask only to serve. Do you have any work for me?"

"Y-y-yes," stammered Jeanie, blinking back her tears. The young man was thin, as if he had not eaten in a while. He also seemed footsore, as if he'd walked a long way, favoring one leg, which looked a little crooked. His face was puffy and his scalp had scabbed over wounds. Both of his hands were bandaged. She was surprised he seemed so cheerful. Despite her problems, she began to feel better.

"Can you fix this table?" she asked him, indicating the broken pieces on the floor.

The young man hobbled inside and knelt down on the floor to pick up the broken pieces. He studied them for a bit before replying.

"Yes," he said. "I can fix this. Does your Master have a workshop?"

"Yes, he does," said Jeanie. "In the garage out back, but first let me get you something to eat."

The man looked more than a little surprised at her offer, but he set his tool box down on the floor and followed her into the dining room. Jeanie busied herself in the kitchen, fixing some sandwiches and, after thinking about it a bit, a small glass of wine.

The young man sank down in the chair, exhausted. He'd had a hard life, and had long to go yet.

"I'm sorry," she said as she brought him the meal. "I am not a very good cook when I have to do it myself."

"It will be fine," he said. He dug in, leaving only the wine untouched. After he'd finished, he sat back and looked at Jeanie, who had taken a seat opposite him.

"You seem troubled," he said.

"Oh, it's nothing," she lied. "Nothing you can help with, anyway,"

"You might be surprised," said the young man.

"I would not want to burden you with my problems," said Jeanie.

"I am used to burdens," said the young man, rising from the table. "For now though, why don't you show me your Master's work shop."

He carried his tool box and the broken table with him as Jeanie led him out to the work shop. He set the pieces down on the cluttered workbench and began to pull tools from his box. He began by opening up a broken joint, carefully prying it with a wooden-handled screw driver.

Jeanie left him to his labors, going back inside the house. She hoped that her enemy would arrive soon and get it over with. She would plead with her enemy, beg, do whatever he asked. Then, perhaps Anthony would be safe.

Again, she went to the bookshelf and selected the same volume. For the space of an hour, she sat reading. Again, she began to pray.

"Thank you, God," for sending me a carpenter. "Please forgive me for doubting you. I know now that you hear even my prayers, and if it be your will that I should die at the hands of my enemy, than so be it. Please, though, please keep my Master safe."

She began to feel a little strength creep back into her body. She knew that it would not last, but she thought she might do one last favor. Concentrating carefully, she folded her arms and blinked. The agony she felt almost defied her ability to keep from screaming, but she kept up the effort until her powers were spent, and then she collapsed in a heap on the floor.

When she awoke, the carpenter was leaning over her, supporting her head. Anthony stood beside him, trying frantically to get the phone to work. The carpenter had a glass of red liquid in his hand. It was, Jeanie realized, the wine glass she'd forgotten to clear from the table.

"Drink," he said, bring the glass to her lips.

She began to sip slowly, but sputtered suddenly as she realized what she was doing.

"I cannot drink red wine!" she said. "It... doesn't agree with me."

"You can drink this wine," said the man. "Now drink."

Calmed by his voice, Jeanie drained the glass and began to sit up.

Three knocks rang out on the door.

"Now who could that be?" asked Anthony.

"No!" shouted Jeanie, "Master, you must flee! It is my enemy the Blue Djin! He has sworn to kill us."

"Open the door," said the carpenter. "I will deal with this one."

Anthony had already begun to go to the door. He'd not been able to get through to the rescue squad, but he reasoned that it was just possible Dr. Bellows was at the door. He badly needed a doctor for Jeanie.

Major Nelson opened the door and beheld a tall good-looking young man wearing a stethoscope around his neck and carrying a black bag.

"Major Nelson," he said politely. "May I come in?"

"Well, yeah, sure," said Major Nelson.

"No!" Jeanie cried weakly. "It is..."

The doctor knelt down beside Jeanie and smiled at her. She stared back at him in terror.

"Please don't harm my Master," pleaded Jeanie, "or the carpenter. Boil me in oil, roast me over a volcano, impale me on a wooden post. Anything, only don't hurt my Master."

"He isn't going to hurt anyone," said the carpenter quietly.

"Jeanie, he's a doctor, he's hear to help," said Tony.

"No, Major Nelson, he is no physician," said the carpenter. "Physicians do good, he does only evil."

"Another one!" said the Blue Djin, grinning at the carpenter. "Good! More meat for the kettle."

"Lunch has already been served," said the carpenter. "You weren't invited. Now get out."

"Who are you to tell me to get out!" demanded the Blue Djin, his features contorting in anger. "I who rule over all!"

"Not all," said the carpenter, standing up shakily.

Jeanie noted through her blurred vision that the carpenter seemed stronger now. Perhaps her magic had worked. It would not, matter, though. The Blue Djin would kill them all. If only she'd done his bidding so long ago!

"No, Jeanie, you were never to be his," said the carpenter, seemingly knowing her thoughts. "He tried to corrupt your soul once by giving you immortality and awesome powers. Now that his time on Earth is almost at an end, he took his so-called "gifts" away."

"Who are you!" demanded the Blue Djin again.

"I, like yourself, am known by many names," said the carpenter. "We've met before, you and I." He walked over to the Blue Djin who had begun to retreat toward the door. "Now in My Name, I command you to leave!"

The Blue Djin ran from the house and vanished in a puff of blue smoke.

"Parlor tricks! Even in defeat, he tries parlor tricks," the carpenter said scornfully, shaking his head.

"You only read the Old Testament, Jeanie" said the Carpenter. "So you didn't know about me. My Father was busy, you see, so he sent me to help you. I have never had anyone else attempt to heal my hurts before," he finished smiling. "It tickles a bit doesn't it? Your powers have been restored, by the way. Other's have suffered for my sake, but not many who thought me only a simple workman. Farewell, Jeanie."

"Major Nelson," he paused as Tony closed the door and turned toward the young man. "Jeanie was yours from before you were born, as you are now hers. Cherish each other. It is not my time yet, and you may not remember me clearly after I depart, but no matter, we will meet again."

The Carpenter gathered his tools and walked to the door, a bit more spring in his step. Tony opened the door for him and watched as he walked down the street.

"Who was that?" asked Tony.

"Just a carpenter," said Jeanie. "I broke your cross table and He said He was good at fixing things."

Major Nelson looked over the table. He got down and scrutinized it carefully. He could find no evidence that the table had ever been broken. "Yes," he said slowly, "I suspect that he is."


End file.
